


Safe Harbour

by softlyforgotten



Category: Bandom, The Like
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyforgotten/pseuds/softlyforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're on the lam," Z said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Harbour

When the car first stuttered to a halt, Z smoothed her hand over the dashboard and cooed at it, voice dropping husky and soft like it did when she sang. After a minute, when it didn't move except for a grumpy little grumbling noise as it settled further into the dirt, Tennessee sat up and pulled out her earbuds. She reached past Z and twisted the key in the ignition; the car made a harsh, coughing sound, like a duck with a cold, and then fell silent.

"Z?" Tennessee said, but Z ignored her. Tennessee reached back and curled her hand around Laena's bare ankle, shaking her. Laena shifted and murmured something in her sleep, curling in tighter on herself and Tennessee shook her again. "Laena," she said. "Car's broken down."

"Wake me up when you fix it," Laena mumbled.

"It's not broken," Z insisted. Tennessee turned back to her.

"You're not going to fix it by _singing_ to it," she said. Z looked faintly surprised, as if the idea hadn't occurred to her, and Tennessee sighed, rubbing the heels of her hands against her eyes. "I knew we should have taken my car. Or _rented_ one." Z gave her an unimpressed look and Tennessee said, "What? It'd probably end up cheaper, the amount of gas this piece of shit uses."

"We're on the lam," Z said, aggrieved. "The piece of shit is necessary to our aesthetic."

"Z," Tennessee said. "Just. What happened?"

"I don't know?" Z said. She sighed and unbuckled her seatbelt, opening the door and climbing out. Tennessee followed, stretching her stiff limbs, and walked around to where Z had heaved up the hood and was peering into the engine.

"It's still got gas, right?" Tennessee said.

" _Yes_ , Tenn," Z said. She pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head and pushed her hair back out of her face. "Motherfucker," she said, almost thoughtfully.

The engine didn't look particularly broken, as far as Tennessee could tell. It wasn't like it was smoking helpfully from one part or anything; it looked hot, after a day's driving, but that wasn't particularly illuminating. Tennessee tilted her head to the side, considering. "Should we call someone?"

Z sighed, rolling her neck to the side, pushing her shoulders back. "I guess," she said. "We'll never make it the hotel tonight if we have to wait for them, though."

"We can always stop at a motel," Tennessee said. "It was probably a bad idea to book in, anyway." It had been, she knew, but they'd been staying in crappy motels and trailer parks for the past week, taking a leisurely drive along the coast with only the vaguest of arrival points in their heads, and despite the joy in the trip that hadn't worn off yet, Tennessee was tired and sore. She wanted a bath, not a crappy shower in a dubious looking bathroom, and a soft bed, and waiting a couple of hours for a mechanic made that goal seem kind of impossible.

Z nodded, though, and Tennessee sighed, tilting into her side. Z somehow managed to smell good, despite hours of travelling and three days without a shower, and Tennessee breathed out against Z's neck. Z curled an arm around her shoulders, the automatic, unconscious response that could only be provoked by a few people. Tennessee had never quite gotten over the gladness of being one; now she wondered, idly, what would happen if Charlotte leaned back against Z these days, whether Z would automatically loop her arms around Charlotte's waist.

"Hey," Laena said, coming around and hooking her chin over Z's free shoulder. "What's going on?"

"Don't know," Z said, glumly. "We're going to have to call a mechanic or something." She looked around. "The beach is just down there, right? Maybe we could go wait there for a while before they come."

"Hmmn," Laena said, and leaned closer to the engine, pushing her hair out of her face. "I think I can fix this."

Tennessee blinked. "Really?"

"Yeah," Laena said, and then laughed when Tennessee and Z gave her identical, startled expressions. "It's not a big deal, guys. My dad, he used to – anyway, it's fixable. Give me half an hour?"

"For _real_?" Z said. "You can fix _cars_?"

"Big and small," Laena said solemnly. Her eyes were dancing; Tennessee giggled behind her hand.

Z stared at Laena for a few moments in what Tennessee could only guess was silent awe. Then she pulled out her phone, shaking her head. "I'm telling Twitter," she said.

\---

It was a warm day, but really windy, and the patch of coast they were on at the moment was mostly deserted, to Tennessee's delight. Laena had banished them while she dealt with the car, and Z hadn't really needed an excuse to steer them down to the sea, climbing awkwardly over the rough shrubs that led to the dunes and past them, where the beach was empty and unmarked. Tennessee said, "I don't have my swimsuit," and Z shrugged and unzipped her skirt, stepping out of it and leaving it on the sand. She went to take her shirt off, and Tennessee swallowed, said, "Leave it on. You'll get burnt."

"Or tanned," Z said, but she didn't make any further move to take it off, walking down the sand to the sea peaceably enough.

Tennessee was wearing a dress, which was a problem; after a moment, she shrugged and headed down into the water anyway. She could get something out of the bags in the back if it got too sandy to be comfortable.

The water was cold and crisp, and Z was standing with it only up to her shins. She bent forward and dangled her hands in the waves, clearly trying to get up the courage to go further. Tennessee laughed and pushed at her a little, not enough to really make Z lose her balance, and Z scowled over her shoulder. Tennessee moved on quickly, before Z could splash her. There was a manner and a method with which one should get in the water, and Tennessee followed it carefully, the same way she had when she and Charlotte had come up with it, seven and eight years old. She still counted the exact number of footsteps she was allowed to take.

The waves were big but slow, and they slipped rather than broke onto the shore, no roar of foam to snatch either of them up. Tennessee waded out to her waist and then ducked under the next wave. She swam further without coming up for air, slow, looping circles with her arms. Underwater, everything was dark and clear at the same time, and Tennessee could feel the grime of a week's travelling washing away, carried off with the grit of sand. When she came up, shaking her hair back, the water was up to her shoulders, and she laughed and gasped and spluttered, grinning aimlessly up at the sky. Z was watching her, far enough away now that Tennessee couldn't see her expression.

Tennessee pushed up on her toes to bounce and call, "It's beautiful once you get in, come on!" Z stood perfectly still, but Tennessee waited, and eventually she started moving again, heading in Tennessee's direction. Tennessee laughed and kicked her feet up, lying on her back and letting the bob of the waves carry her in slow circles.

Z reached her and touched the sole of her foot, light enough that for a moment Tennessee thought it was seaweed and didn't move. Then Z's shadow fell over her and Tennessee stood up, scraping her feet through the sand. "Hey," she said, because Z looked strange, face faraway and frowning. She leaned forward and tapped Z's elbow, and Z looked at her a beat too late, making Tennessee laugh. "Hey, freak," she said, and Z smiled and leaned forward, plucking at the wet material sticking to Tennessee's shoulder.

"You look like a mermaid," she said. "All the cloth's stuck around your legs."

"Mermaids can't do handstands like me," Tennessee said, and dove underwater to prove it, pushing her legs up tall and firm. Her dress fell down to cover her face and she came up gasping, wiping her eyes. Z laughed and ducked down underwater, grabbing at Tennessee's ankles with cool, bony fingers. Tennessee yelped and shifted, trying to shake Z off, and Z swam through her legs, shoulders bumping against Tennessee's ankles. Tennessee was the better swimmer of the two, but Z could stay underwater much longer. _Singers_ , Tennessee thought.

When Z emerged she was behind Tennessee, shivering and clinging to her back. She twisted one bare leg around Tennessee's, only half holding herself up, letting the water do the rest of the work. It would be easy, Tennessee thought, to turn around, but she didn't; she stayed where she was, and Z stayed with her, shuddering and laughing with the cold.

"We haven't done a sea yet," Z said, "a sea video," and Tennessee shrugged out of her grasp and sank underwater, trying to keep the current from tugging her enough that she could sit cross-legged on the sand, tilting her head up to the sky. The salt burned her eyes but it was enough, to see Z's silhouette, her legs stretching on for miles in the strange reflections of the water.

When Tennessee came up, Z was looking at her strangely, cocking her head to the side like she was trying to sort out a problem.. "C'mon," Tennessee said, and looked out to the shore, where Laena was waving at them. "Looks like it's sorted."

Z hummed. "How far away are we from Reni, still?"

"Couple of days," Tennessee said. "We should call her tonight."

Z nodded. "I'll race you back," she said, and Tennessee laughed, and struck out for the shore.

\---

They arrived at their hotel at a little past six that night, in just enough time to catch some of the better foods on the menu before the kitchen packed up, and with Laena safe in her position as a mystical, magical mechanic. "First shower!" Z said, when they dumped their bags in the room, three small beds and the faint smell of flowers, and Tennessee flopped back on the bed by the window and grinned.

"You want to call Reni?" she asked, and Laena looked up from the veggie burger she was digging into and nodded, holding out her hand for Tennessee's cell. Tennessee tossed it across the gap between the beds and Laena fumbled and dropped it. "Not so scary competent _now_ , are you," Tennessee said, grinning. Laena looked confused enough that Tenn guessed she'd managed not to notice Z's wide-eyed admiration at the whole fixing of the car thing. It hadn't so much as wavered for the rest of the day.

"Hey, Reni, it's me," Laena said, and Tennessee rolled onto her side, curled her knees up and watched Laena talk. There was something about watching people on the phone, listening to the one-sided conversations, that Tennessee had always loved, a habit from childhood that she hadn't ever grown out of. Something, she thought, in the way people smiled when they knew the person down the other end couldn't see; there was no need for moderation. Laena talked carefully on the phone, like she was choosing the words best suited to be carried down the miles and wire. It was different from Z's ever-present laughter and Reni's ability to carry on one conversation on the phone and another with whoever was nearby using only her hands, from the way Charlotte frowned, intent, and sat in odd positions, pressing her cell to her ear with her knee, hunching herself in and around the voice.

"We'll be there soon," Laena said, and Tennessee wanted to get up and rest her head in Laena's lap, because Laena was tracing her hand in idle circles on her knee, and Tennessee thought there was a pretty good chance she could get Laena to pet her hair. She didn't, though, something heavy and weary in her bones, like she was still soggy with the seawater. Instead she lay still, and listened to Laena talk to Reni, to Z singing in the shower next door.

Z emerged about ten minutes later, wrapped in a towel, hair hanging wet and dripping. It was just getting long enough now that it could almost touch her shoulders, and Tennessee followed the drips of water, looked at where a few had gathered above Z's collarbone in the hollow of her throat.

Laena said, "It's my turn to have a shower! Here, I'll pass you to Z."

Z took Tennessee's cell looking faintly confused, and Tennessee bit down on a laugh when she answered with a cautious, "Hello?" before her face lit up. "Reni!" she said, delighted and surprised, and Tennessee did laugh, then, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow. Z talked quickly, words tripping over themselves, and Tennessee was only half-listening now, but she caught vague sentences and stories: Laena the wonder mechanic (oh god, Tennessee thought, they were never, ever going to hear the end of that), "only a few days away from you, Tenn says", and the beach that day, how clear and peaceful the water had been, how cold until they went under. "Tennessee didn't look real," Z said, and Tennessee wished that Z was a little more like Laena on the phone, that she didn't say things so carelessly and easily, that Tenn would be able to tell what _was_ real and what wasn't.

After a while, Z crossed to Tennessee's bed and sat down on the edge of it, cocking her head to the side and listening. Tennessee moved over, pressing her back to the wall and closing her eyes. A moment later she felt Z lie down beside her, still only wearing that towel, smelling clean, smelling like the afternoons at Tennessee's grandma's house in the Cotswolds, when Tenn's grandma raised her head to the sky and said, "Smells like rain."

"I'm kind of tired," Z said, and Tennessee reached out and traced her hand over Z's shoulder, running her nails lightly over Z's skin, making goosebumps spring up in her path. Z settled a little more into the mattress, her back still turned to Tennessee, cell pressed between her ear and the pillow.

"On Wednesday," Z said, "we got totally lost, like, I was trying to read the map? And that was stupid, but also Laena was driving, so together, I don't even know, we somehow ended up heading for _Nashville_ , and then Tenn woke up and we ended up finding some tiny gas station and trying to get directions from them, only the guy hated us, I don't know why, and so I called Ryan, and that was pretty pointless because he's got that weird obsession with Google Earth but doesn't know how to use it, you know, and then Laena called her _dad_ , and that was the only way we worked out where we should be going, it was—"

She broke off and started laughing, and Tennessee pressed her nose against the small of Z's back, and traced her finger just above the towel, and then up the few bumps in Z's spine that were uncovered. "It was so weird," Z said, and Tennessee wondered if she was still talking about that day. She thought about standing in that gas station with the old guy, who looked a little like one of Mark's friends, and how he had looked at Laena's shorts and Z biting her nails with her eyes wide and startled and the top buttons of her shirt not done up properly, and when he had looked at Tennessee, Tennessee had looked straight back.

"We'll see you soon," Z said. "Okay, you, too. Bye." She rolled over and smiled at Tennessee. "I love swimming in the ocean," she said. "When you come out, it's –the sand cleans you up, look. Look at my nails."

She held out her hands for examination and Tennessee took one in hers, running her fingers along the clean lines of Z's blunt fingernails. Z's hands were a weird mixture of things, callused fingers and soft palms and the gritty feeling of sand-cleaned nails under Tennessee's fingers. She didn't say anything, and after a moment, Z frowned.

"You alright?" Z said, and something caught in Tennessee's chest. A week of travelling, she thought, a week of living in Z's space, somehow different to touring, with no way to release everything at the end of each day. A week of Z's legs sprawled over hers, of driving and drumming on the steering wheel while Z sang, of feeling guilty for using Laena as a buffer, of watching men in gas stations watch Z. A week wasn't very long at all, Tennessee thought, but she felt stretched thin and faint with it.

"I'm okay," she said. Z didn't look very convinced. Tennessee plucked out a loose thread from Z's towel, and repeated, "I'm okay."

"I don't want you to not be," Z said. Z had never stopped favouring convoluted sentences over simple ones; that was, Tennessee supposed, why Z leaned forward and kissed her, dry and lingering, their mouths closed. It was small and painful in a strange way, and it made Tennessee close her eyes despite the fact that she'd probably gotten more passionate kisses from her grandmother, the grandmother that could smell rain. Z rubbed their noses together, like she had when she'd been fourteen and wanted them to make a pact, friends forever, all of them, no matter how far they went, and Tennessee wondered where Charlotte was, at that exact moment.

"I won't not be, then," Tennessee said, when Z drew back, and Z smiled as though Tennessee had given her an unexpected present.

"Okay," she said.

"Alright," Tennessee said.

Laena came back into the room, buttoning up her shirt, and Tennessee got up off the bed. Z rolled onto her back and lay watching Tennessee, her eyes calm and clear. Tennessee hesitated, and then went to wash the salt out of her hair. Behind her, Z started to sing, and Tennessee started to smile.


End file.
